


upon reflection, human connection is better than i gave it credit for

by bytheinco_nstantmoon



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Jonathan Byers, Bisexual Nancy Wheeler, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Idiots in Love, Jonathan Just Loves His Family So Much Okay, Love Confessions, Monsters, Multi, Protective Jonathan Byers, Sacrifice, Team as Family, but hey while we're mentioning it, i mean for right now it's just, i wrote this for no reason at all!!, it's very sweet I promise, just three bi polyams in love, not right now but like. i presume i will continue this, that also, they're trying their best, those aren't related but they're both relevant, very ambiguously set post season 2?????, wow I love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26718163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bytheinco_nstantmoon/pseuds/bytheinco_nstantmoon
Summary: God, but he loved them all so much. He’d live and die for them.The door shuddered again.--or; Jonathan makes a choice.
Relationships: Jonathan Byers & The Party, Jonathan Byers & Will Byers, Jonathan Byers/Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler
Comments: 9
Kudos: 70





	1. it starts with an earthquake

**Author's Note:**

> i literally wrote this entirely on a whim. i woke up from my migraine nap and said "hey, wouldn't that be fun to write?" and then i DID

"Shit, shit, shit, shit-" Jonathan shushed Steve harshly as the door shuddered with the force of another blow. The makeshift shelter was hardly award-winning; it wouldn't take much to crumble. "Shit," Steve said again.

"Shit," Jonathan agreed. His whole body ached distantly, the throb centring in his left leg. He'd twisted his ankle earlier when he and Nancy were running through the woods to get here. It stung lightly, but it was nothing compared to the terror-fuelled adrenaline that refused to abate from his veins.

Nancy's hand landed gently on his shoulder as she stepped up behind him. "They're not slowing down, are they?" she asked quietly. Jonathan shook his head slowly. Next to him, Steve had turned to survey the kids behind them.

Jonathan couldn't look at the kids. God, he didn't want to think about the kids right now. Not when he didn't know if any of them would survive the next five minutes. He didn't want to think about how his baby brother might only make it to age thirteen. That kind of thought process rarely served a good purpose.

"We need a distraction," Nancy murmured. Her face was twisted up in concentration, worry creasing it more intensely than he'd ever seen, and she was still beautiful. "They'll find the back door soon. We have to get out while we still can." Jonathan opened his mouth, ready to point out his ankle, and then closed it, because that wasn't what mattered right now. It didn't matter if he  _ could  _ run. He had to either way.

The door shuddered again.

It wasn't a complicated decision. It was like a switch in his head, off and on. He had to run and then he thought,  _ unless I don't, _ and that was that. Books, movies, songs, they made it so dramatic, but it settled into his bones without a moment of fanfare. Sudden, utter certainty. This was what he had to do.

Steve was appraising him warily. His decision must have shown on his face somewhat. "Hey, man, uh- you good?" he asked. Jonathan gave him a distracted nod, still focused on the door.

"Nance." He reached out for her hand and she took it without hesitation. "You’re right. The back door. Steve goes first. The woods will be our safest bet to hide, but you have to run-"

"Wait, no, what the hell? I'm not going first. The kids-"

Nancy interrupted him firmly. "No, he's right. You have the bat. It would be stupid to send the kids before you." Her hand landed gently on his arm, a silent reassurance. Jonathan could see the slope of Steve's shoulders relax slightly at the touch and gave him a little smile. "Jon and I will follow you guys," she added. Jonathan squeezed her hand and then let go of their little three-way entanglement, stepping toward the kids.

Will was huddled up with Lucas and El, whispering frantically, all their eyes wide as they tried to calculate a way out the situation. Jonathan's heart ached- they were so little. They didn’t deserve this. Will glanced up as he approached and instantly latched onto him, face falling in his shoulder. Jonathan closed his eyes. Will had hit his growth spurt in the past few months, and they were almost the same height, but holding him still felt the same. It was a renewal of resolve. He was his little brother. He had to protect him. All of them, no matter what. He had to keep them safe. “Jonathan?” He hummed slightly, pulling back so that Will could look at him. He was frowning slightly. “Are you okay?”

It took a moment for him to find the words. “Yeah. I’m okay.” He gave him a shaky smile. Will returned it, but it was hesitant. “Don’t worry about me, bud.” Will rolled his eyes. He didn’t let go, though, so Jonathan kept holding on.

He needed to protect Will, had always needed to protect Will, but it was so much harder when that meant letting go.

Nancy’s hand landed against the small of his back, her cheek pressing against his shoulder, and the other came up to card gently through Will’s hair. “Group hug,” she said, sounding sort of morosely amused. In an instant, Mike was on his feet, crowding in next to Will, his arm hooking around until his fingers interlocked with his sister’s. Will huffed out some kind of laugh and leant into him. Mike pressed a kiss to his hair and then tugged El in with his other hand. She wormed in as tightly as she could- she was good at that, getting as close as possible, which meant she gave great hugs- and hid her face against Nancy’s shoulder. Steve’s chest pressed up against Jonathan’s back, warm and solid and strong. One hand ruffled El’s hair. The other was holding onto Jonathan’s hip, pulling him in as close as possible. Lucas, Dustin, and Max had woven themselves in, everyone crowded so closely that Jonathan could swear he heard each individual heartbeat.

God, but he loved them all so much. He’d live and die for them. He was going to.

The door shuddered again.

It took a moment for them all to unwind from each other, but once they had, Jonathan reached out one more time, squeezing Will’s hand as tightly as he could. “Okay, we have a plan,” he said. Eight pairs of bright eyes turned on him. It was hard to breathe. “They haven’t found the back door yet. In the woods, it should be easier to dodge them. Steve is going first, and then you guys, in groups of three.” Will’s eyes widen. His hand had been slipping out of Jonathan’s grip, but it suddenly seized up again, almost painfully.

“What about you?”

“Yeah, and Nance?” Mike echoed, his face knit up. Nancy gave him a little smile and waved her gun as if to show it off.

Will still looked concerned. “She has the gun, but Jonathan-”

“I’ll be fine,” he interrupted. The lie tasted bitter, but he didn’t have a choice. He had to do this. He had to protect them. His whole life had always been about protecting his family, and this is his family, right here. These brilliant, brave kids, every single one of them, and Nancy, who he’ll love to the end of time, and Steve, who he never expected to love so much. He looked around at them, still so determined, even when they’re surrounded, and his heart flooded with so much warmth that he couldn’t tamper down a smile. Yeah, they would be alright. He was doing the right thing.

It wasn’t as hard to let go this time. Will squared his shoulders and gave a sharp nod, readying himself. Jonathan nodded back. Pride was so thick in his throat that he could barely breathe, but that was okay. He deserved the leniency to be emotional right now.

The kids huddled back together to decide their groups and Jonathan turned to Nancy. She was still at his side, just like always. Just like they’d promised. She gave him a wry smile. “Ready to fight, general?”

“Never,” he answered honestly, and she rolled her eyes at him but laughed anyway. Jonathan smiled, but his gaze wandered away to where Steve was at the other side of the room, tossing looks at the door. He was practising his swing with the nail bat, his lips moving slightly as he muttered under his breath to himself, his whole body leaning back and forth like a palm in the wind. He was streaked with dirt and blood and caked with sweat. His hair was strung out over his face. He was beautiful.

Nancy squeezed his hand. Jonathan startled, looking back at her, but she just smiled. “Go talk to him,” she murmured. “We won’t have much time once we leave.”

They didn’t have much time  _ now _ . But the monsters were still snapping the front door, not circling around, so Jonathan kissed her forehead and then crossed the room carefully, hovering outside the range of Steve’s swing. “Hey.”

Steve almost dropped the bat. “Shit! Byers! Hi.” He cleared his throat and straightened up, swinging the bat over his shoulder. “Hey, uh, how’s it going?”

“Well, we’re all gonna die, thanks for asking,” Jonathan replied. Steve ducked his head, hiding an ironic little smile that made Jonathan’s chest do funny things. “I, uh. I hope you don’t die,” he added. The words were kind of rushed, but fuck, he had to say this. At least once.

Steve’s eyes met his again, clearly confused. “I hope you don’t die either, Byers,” he replied slowly. He sounded baffled. Jonathan shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling very self conscious all of the sudden. This was so much easier with Nancy. (Okay, the alcohol and general desolace of a rundown bunker probably helped. But still.) “What’s this about?”

Jonathan opened his mouth, closed it, and then said, “You’re- hot? How do I do this, I- fuck, uh-” Steve was staring at him. His eyes were wide and unreadable and honestly Jonathan’s body had no excuse to be this jumpy when there were so many other problems happening. “You, uh, you’re not just- you’re also really sweet and stuff, but you know that, I mean, like. You’re perfect. You’re, like, an angel. But you- you know that, you’ve gotta know that, I mean-”

“I love you too,” Steve said. He still looked shocked, but he was smiling. Jonathan froze and then nodded, feeling his face split into a smile of his own.

“Cool.” Steve snorted, but didn’t say anything, just stepped forward, tugging Jonathan into a hug. He held on tight, minding the bat, and kissed at the base of Steve’s neck. Because he could. Because this might be his last chance. Because they had to run. “I love you,” he said belatedly. Steve clutched onto the back of his shirt. A silent promise.

But Jonathan needed him to break it. Because Steve needed to let go. Because Steve needed to run.

He pulled away from the hug reluctantly. “Ready to fight?” he asked, echoing Nancy from earlier.

Steve gave a crooked grin, half-mad and hot as hell. “Always.”

Nancy’s arms slid around Jonathan from behind, her chin resting on his shoulder. “Glad to see you two working things out,” she said. Jonathan hummed, kissing her temple. “It’s been unbearable.” At least she didn’t call it “homoerotic sexual tension” this time. That was what she always said when they were talking about it. “It”, of course, being their horrifyingly strong mutual crush on her ex-boyfriend, and wasn’t that a sentence? Robin, for her part, referred to it as “couples bonding”, which was also... bad. She glanced over her shoulder to check that the kids were still too busy whispering to be paying attention before she asked, “So, threesome when we’re done?”

Jonathan choked, turning red, but Nancy just held on tighter, kissing his shoulder. Steve, to his credit, only froze up for a moment before his face melted back into a bright grin. “Hell yes,” he agreed, almost immediate. “Threesomes for the rest of our  _ lives _ , babes.”

“I hate how romantic that sounded,” Nancy said, not sounding much like she hated anything about this at all.

“You love me, though,” Steve countered.

There was a moment where his face flickered into panic, as if he might have misread the situation, but Nancy just smiled. “That I do,” she said softly, and Steve’s face melted into something disgustingly fond, and Jonathan could have stayed in that moment for the rest of his life.

But something thudded against the door again.

Steve took a deep breath and stepped forward, kissing both their foreheads quickly. “Alright.” It was hard to let him step away. “See you on the other side.”

“See you on the other side,” Nancy echoed quietly. Jonathan said nothing at all, just smiled as best he could.

The door creaked when it opened. And so the game began.

Steve rocketed out, making it twenty or so feet before he slowed, swinging in circles with his bat at the ready. Will, Lucas, and Max followed moments later, darting past him into the shadows of the treeline. It was seconds later that Mike, Dustin, and El ran for it. One of the damn dogs leapt at Mike, teeth snapping, and Jonathan’s body tensed with a half-formed shout. El caught on and sent it flying, though.

Jonathan sank back with relief and then spun around, heading for the front door. Nancy frowned. “What are you doing? Jon?” Her voice rocketed up in pitch as he grabbed the doorknob. “No, no, what’s this? They’re all out there, are you insane?”

He gave her a reassuring smile. She doesn’t look very reassured. “We need a distraction, right?” he asked. Nancy shook her head frantically.

“Not you. Not if it’s you. Get away from the door,” she said desperately. Her gun was trembling in her hand.

Mike screamed and Nancy cursed, whipping around. The dogs were starting to investigate. Steve knocked one away, but there was another on him, and another just behind, and-

And Nancy said, “Don’t you dare move, Jonathan. Don’t you dare.” before she stepped out the back door and fired. The first bullet in the dog in the leg, the second in the head, and it went slumping to the ground. Steve shook it off and kept swinging, and Nancy took another step to fire again. Jonathan stayed where he was for a moment, taking them in, their silhouettes in the dim light as they wreaked havoc against their attackers. Each gunshot lit up like a firework, exploding into the night air, like all the stars were falling down to meet them. They were beautiful. Jonathan stared.

And when he yanked open the door, and when he saw the pack hounding at the lawn, and even when he yelled and grabbed their attention, he felt steady. He was doing this for them. He was buying them the time to stay strong. He was giving them the chance to stay beautiful.

Jonathan closed his eyes and thought of how it felt when Nancy said “I do,” because he wanted to live in that moment for the rest of his life.


	2. the lions living in wiry broke down frames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot i was supposed to finish this so here!! have 5k words sorry it took longer than planned

She landed on her knees with a jolt that jostled her atoms out of place. Sweat was running down her back from the roar of the inferno behind her. On her right, El was spread out on her back, staring up at the inky sky, and Nancy offered her a tiny, tired smile. “We did it, huh?”

“Hell yeah, we did,” Steve said, somehow still sounding victorious as he slumped down to join them. Nancy automatically leaned against him and let her eyes slip closed for a moment to relish the thin peace she could find kneeling in the dirt of the Byers’s backyard. She took a deep breath, inhaling the acrid smoke.

They did it.

Except.

All at once, they realised. All at once, Steve stiffened sharply, his eyes scanning the group, as Nancy bolted to her feet, as El rolled onto her knees, as Mike let out a half-stifled gasp. All at once, but it was Will who said it, his voice cracking, splintering apart. “Jonathan?”

Nancy had seen this makeshift family of her scared what felt like thousands of times in her life, had seen them shake and scream and run, had seen them face dangers no one should ever have to imagine. She had seen terror in what felt like every way possible, but she had never seen it like this, never seen the kind of fear on Will’s face as he called for a brother that wasn’t there.

“I thought he followed you guys,” she said dumbly, but she already knew. They all already knew. Will’s eyes lit up with the reflection of the flames.

Nancy was running before she even knew it. Someone shouted- Mike, maybe?- but she paid it no heed, already pushing into the flaming wreck the Byers’s house had become. A fallen beam in the hallway paused her trek, but she screwed up a bravery she hadn’t felt before, a bravery that echoed like desperation in her bones, that thrummed throughout her whole body, that said, “You have to do this, you have to do it for him,” and jumped past with her shirt pulled over her nose. The flames were lashing wildly, and someone was shouting again. She kept going. She had to keep going.

The front door was wide open. She had a momentary flash of memory, of Jonathan standing there, smiling back at her with his hand poised over the knob, and a sob welled up in her that would have broken if the flames hadn’t already seared away any chance of tears.  _ This must be what Hell is like, _ she thought hysterically until she caught sight of a foot and everything else was wiped away.

For a moment, between the flames and the blurring of her vision, she thought the foot was detached and her whole body roiled with horror that nearly made her ill. It was only a second, though, and then she saw his knee, and his thigh, both soaked red, and then his chest, and then she choked on bile again. She told herself it was his shirt that was gnashed to pieces, and that she just couldn’t see his side because of the fire. Not because of the blood, just the flames dancing far too close to both of them. It was just his shirt.

There was an explosion from the kitchen. Nancy instinctively ducked, though she was far enough away that nothing came flying. Jonathan’s hand twitched at the sound, and she unfroze, bolting to his side. She didn’t have time to process. She didn’t have time to think. She was in Hell with Jonathan bleeding out on the steadily charring carpet, and all she had time for was getting them out alive.

“Nancy!”

Steve’s face was bleach white through the flames. It wavered slightly- from heat or tears, she wasn’t sure. The flames lashed out sharply towards her and she threw her body down, half-covering Jonathan from the deadly tongues dancing above them.

Steve’s hand landed on her back for half a second. “Nancy. Come on.” His touch slipped away and wrapped securely under Jonathan’s shoulders, hoisting him up bridal style. Nancy swallowed hard.

“The front door.” Her voice was raspy. “It’s closer, come on-”

The front door was enwreathed with fire. Steve stopped short for half a moment, but another beam went crashing down in the hallway behind them, and he shook off the hesitation, practically throwing himself out into the night air.

As soon as Nancy came stumbling out onto the grass, there were two pairs of arms around her. Mike buried his face into her shoulder silently, holding her so close that she felt like she’d melt. Will’s chin settled onto her head. “It’s okay, Nancy,” he was saying. It felt like it was a million years away. “You’re okay. We’ve got you. It’s gonna be okay.” It shouldn’t have been comforting. Jonathan was just feet away, probably, with his side torn to shreds and his jeans soaked in his own blood, so nothing was okay yet. But Will’s voice wasn’t even trembling. It was soaked in some kind of grief, but it was steady. It was certain. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Mike dragged her even closer into their combined grip and whispered, “I love you,” and Nancy started crying.

“I told him not to,” she choked out. Will’s whole body shuddered. He was crying too, she realised, and clutched onto him tighter. “I told him- I told him to get away, told him not to do it, I  _ told _ him-”

Neither of them said it was okay because it wasn’t, but Mike said, “You got him out. He’s out now, he’s with us, you got him out,” and Will said, “You did what you could,” and both of them said, “I love you,” one after the other, so close together that she didn’t know which voice was which, and she held on.

She could smell iron in the air. And  _ this _ \- this was Hell.

.

.

He blinked once. And then he blinked twice, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t remember his bedroom being so white. He didn’t remember going to bed in so much pain, either, but his whole body was stinging, like he was made of one raw nerve. A single composite wound. Like-

Like teeth tearing into his skin, and faces that weren’t faces fixed wholly on him, and his legs going out from under him as his body was stolen straight from his bones.

He couldn’t breathe.

“Jonathan? Jon-” The voice faded in and out like static as he shuddered, staring blankly upwards, his mind and body stinging with a moment long gone. “-than. Can you hear-” He grasped uselessly at the sheets. The light was hurting his eyes. It was hurting his eyes. Everything hurt so fucking bad. “-answer me! Jonath-” Everything hurt, it fucking hurt, he was bursting at the seams with a pain both visceral and phantom, one that was ripping every stitch of his body out and burning the thread. “Jonathan!” There were hands on his shoulders. They were shaking him. Or was he shaking on his own? He couldn’t tell. “Jonathan, please, answer me, please, please, I need you to look at me, baby, please. Jonathan-”

Jonathan. That was him. He was Jonathan. His mind suddenly supplied the answer to a question he hadn’t thought to ask yet and he refocused as well as he could, squinting at the face swimming back and forth above him. “Mom,” he mumbled out. “Mom? Mom.”

His head echoed with a wet, relieved laugh. “Oh, baby, yes. Yes. I’m here. I’m here.” He smiled as well as he could, although the movement stretched his chapped lips painfully. He blinked again, trying to bring her into focus. There was another figure beside her, tall and forbidding and-

“Dad?” he mumbled. There was a distinct lack of answer, but a big, warm hand grasped his tightly, so he took that as a yes. “Shouldn’ you be at… work? What time’s it?” And why was his room so fucking white?

Mom smoothed back his hair, kissing his forehead. “No, baby, it’s Hopper,” she said, sounding sort of confused. Jonathan frowned.

“That’s not a time.”

Mom laughed, sounding confused. "No, it's…" she trailed off. Dad squeezed his hand again and he squeezed back at well as he could. It was weak, but he tried, at least. “Why don’t you get some more rest, baby.” She kissed his forehead again. Jonathan grumbled as they moved away, but didn’t say anything. Dad’s arm came up around Mom’s shoulders, pulling her into his side.

“You’re short,” he mumbled. She didn’t hear him, or at least didn’t turn around, but that was okay. His eyes were heavy with new phantoms anyway.

.

.

The next time he woke up, there were fingers tangled into his and a solid warmth pressed up against his side, familiar voices murmuring back and forth over him. He couldn’t quite make out the words, but he felt overwhelmingly safe as he drifted back to sleep.

.

.

But then he dreamed about _ teeth tearing into his skin, and faces that weren’t faces fixed wholly on him, and his legs going out from under him- _

“Jonathan!”

He bolted awake, his body shooting towards a sitting position on instinct but catching itself on agony halfway there and collapsing back into the pillows, burning, burning, burning again, all wrapped up in spider webs of shattered nerves. He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t  _ breathe, _ just looping through the same shockwaves until his bones were too tired to ache anymore.

It was an eternity within a minute. The tsunami subsided, gathering on the horizon again, and his body relaxed into the bed. The room was silent aside from a soft sniffling noise. He blinked, trying to disperse the buzzing in his skull. A familiar face hovered above him, a silhouette like an angel against the stark white ceiling. He reached up and cupped her face with one shaky hand. A tear caught on his thumb. “Hey,” she whispered.

“Hey, Nance,” he whispered back. His eyes were stinging too. He hadn’t realised how much he missed her. Her and Steve. He frowned. Nancy, ever the genius, pointed to his other side, and he shifted, tilting his head. “Steve.” He didn’t let his hand fall from Nancy’s face, but he brought the other one up to tangle in Steve’s hair. Steve accepted the touch with a smile like the sun and a soft kiss on the cheek. Jonathan hummed contentedly. “Missed you,” he mumbled, the aftershock of his fit leaving his whole body exhausted.

He could feel the look they exchanged. “We missed you too,” Nancy finally said, belated and shaky and utterly unconvincing. Jonathan tried not to cringe. It didn’t work. Hopefully they’d pass it off as pain. “Not that- oh, that sounded awful.” They were too smart for him, fuck. Nancy’s hand pressed over his on her cheek. “We did miss you. So much.” Her voice thickened. Was she crying again? “God, I can’t imagine…” she trailed off and sniffled again.

Steve sighed. His hand entwined with Nancy’s, laying together against Jonathan’s stomach. “We were worried,” he said softly.

“Why?” Jonathan’s eyes were still closed, but he heard Nancy’s short, choked breath in. Before she could interrupt, he said, “I just wanted you to be okay. Wanted everyone to be okay.”

Nancy gripped his wrist tightly. “Yeah, but we want you to be okay too,” she answered, sounding on the edge of a sob. “We want you to be okay with us.”

“Don’t wanna be okay without you,” Steve added. There was another kiss on his cheek, and then more hesitantly on the corner of his mouth. His eyes opened slowly, taking in the twin expressions above him. Taking in the warmth emanating from them. Taking in the love that he couldn’t breathe without.

He smiled. “I love you too.” Nancy kissed his nose.

“We love you so much,” she said, wearing a smile of her own. (One of his favorite smiles in the whole world. One of the prettiest, too.) “Just rest, babe. Everyone’s going to be okay.”

He meant to say it again, but he fell asleep halfway through.

.

.

His time in the hospital took on the form of a week, passing in a static of nightmares and short waking moments, haunted by either the phantoms in his head or the phantoms on his family’s faces when they watched him. Their eyes danced with the ghost of a grief they hadn’t quite felt, one that was killed when he just barely wasn’t. A grief that was extinguished, but barely, and still danced on coals in their minds. There were wrinkles on his mom’s face that he hadn’t seen before. Dad’s hair was grayer than he remembered, too.

El came and sat with him for hours on end, holding his hand, squeezing it tightly whenever he was thrown out of his head into the present world again. Nancy and Steve came every day, bringing gentle kisses and gentler words, taking half his smiles every time they left. Dad didn’t like being called Dad, so he started calling him Hop instead. That made his shoulders relax more. Mike came by- well, if hovering on the threshold and mumbling, “I hope you get out of here soon,” counting as coming by- and so did Max. She stayed for longer, telling him at length about the Dungeons and Dragons campaign they had running and what was playing on television every afternoon and her stupid math teacher that wouldn’t give her extra credit even though she deserved it. Lucas and Dustin came with her a few times. They mostly just bickered about miniscule details of her rambling, but it was a familiar comfort to hear them argue. Karen brought him sandwiches and tapes he’d left in Nancy’s room over time. It was a piercing relief to see them- he’d been distantly worried that the fire had ruined all his music.

A week passed comfortably, but not perfectly. It was his sixth day when he finally asked. Max was halfway through a story about dinner the night before, gesturing wildly with her hands, and the question burst out before he could stop it. “How’s Will?”

She froze. A quiet dread curled into Jonathan’s stomach, coiling tighter as moments dragged past. Finally, Max gave a forced smile. “He’s okay.”

Another tense moment passed before Jonathan nodded slowly. “Okay. As long as he’s okay.” He couldn’t bring himself to say anything else, so he gestured for her to keep going with her story. She did. The vigor built itself back up until he was laughing along again. Still, though, a darkness hovered in his mind, making him sick as it trickled along the back of his brain. If Will was really okay, then why hadn’t he come to visit? If he was okay, he was able to, right? So why didn’t he?

Jonathan dodged the obvious answer because it made his stomach turn. It had to be something else. It had to be. Will was sick or… or hurt, and they just weren’t telling him because they didn’t want him to worry too much, and that was why he was staying away. It couldn’t be too bad. It would pass soon, and then he’d come visit. It’d be soon. It had to be.

Will would come by soon, he assured himself, and ignored the curling anxiety that whispered how Will might not want to.

.

.

Steve made him more tapes. Nancy bought him fries, which was somehow enough to make him start crying. He blamed the meds. She said, “No, I don’t think so,” and kissed his head so sweetly that he forgot to be embarrassed. They also swung by with his homework, which he shoved under the bed and lied to his mom about. He asked if they were staying with Hopper, which earned him an eyeroll- he wasn’t sure why, it was an honest question, but Mom had been acting weird about Hop ever since he called him Dad- and a short explanation that no, they were staying with the Wheelers, and Max was staying with them too. Looking back on it, he probably should have put that together, considering they’d all been heavily involved in her stories.

He didn’t ask about Will. He didn’t want to be lied to again.

Hop found the notebooks shoved under the bed and made him do them, which sucked. But he sat at the side of the bed and helped, which didn’t. He was good at math and history, apparently. Shit at science, but Jonathan was too, so they half-assed it for the sake of looking productive and then shoved it out of sight forever. Max helped them with Spanish. Sort of. Okay, they gave Max his Spanish and she did it and he pretended to know what she was writing, but that was the same thing. She regaled them with tales of the overcrowded Wheeler house all the while, and the room was filled with laughter, and Jonathan was filled with love, and when he said, “Dad, you’re shit at this,” during his Chem notes, Hopper didn’t even make a face. Another week passed. Things were okay.

.

.

Two weeks and three days.

Will didn’t come by.

.

.

When he got released, he emerged into the waiting room and an explosion of cheers. He jokingly turned like he was going to walk back through the doors, but several pairs of hands caught him, pulling him into their cacophony. Nancy’s face was flushed pleasantly, her hair tossed up haphazardly, wearing old jeans and a t-shirt that he kindly did not point out was his; next to her, Steve was equally messy, with a smudge of her lipstick on his jaw that Mom kept eyeing suspiciously. Jonathan waited until they were in the car and everyone was distracted to reach up and wipe it away. Steve’s smile made all his aches fade away.

They tumbled through the front door in a heap of noise and excitement. Karen came rushing down the stairs and pulled him into a hug, saying things like, “So glad you’re back,” and “So worried, that must have been awful,” and “You’re sure you’re alright?” that he could barely hear over everyone but still made his chest feel warm. Her eyes were deeper than when he’d last seen them, amplified by a different kind of worry, and he wondered how much they’d told her. He didn’t really have time to ask, though, because Dustin and Lucas were waving something in his face and yelling on top of each other. It was a video game or something- he wasn’t even sure it was anything they would have shared with him before. It pressed something precious into his heart when he realised they had missed him.

They ate dinner spread out across the living room floor. Nancy was curled up against his side, stealing bites of his food, and Steve was laying on the floor with his shoulder pressed into Jonathan’s knee, stealing bites of hers. Mike and El were feeding each other. It was gross. Everyone made fun of them, and then El flipped Lucas’s plate and everyone continued making fun of them, but with more trepidation. Even Hopper looked mostly amused by it, instead of the angry glower he usually had when Mike and El were within ten feet of each other. Holly was babbling to her mom happily the whole time, bouncing up and down in her lap, occasionally pointing at Jonathan and babbling in his direction. He waved at her every time and she grinned brightly, clapping her hands. One time, she said his name (okay, it sounded more like “Johnson” but it was an attempt) and he said, “Holly!” and she cheered, waving her little hands in the air and sending food into Lucas’s hair again. Jonathan ducked his head with a laugh. As he looked back up, he caught sight of a face hovering just outside the living room.

Their eyes made contact for half a moment before Will turned away.

“Hey, you okay?” Nancy asked.

Jonathan kissed her forehead, successfully distracting her from Steve snatching a bite of chicken off her plate. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He let her have the rest of his dinner. He didn’t feel very hungry anymore.

Karen kicked them all out of the living room as soon as they were finished, because “you’ve already a hell of a mess, I don’t need more,” which made everyone whine until she added, “And Jonathan needs to get rest,” which turned into everyone staring him down until he retreated towards the stairs.

“It’s only ten,” he protested, but it was weak, because Nancy was dragging him into her room and the prospect of getting to curl up with her was very tempting. Steve followed them and flopped down on his other side and Jonathan could breathe a hundred times once two sets of arms were twined across him. “My mom was getting suspicious of you guys,” he said, kissing the spot of Steve’s arm closest to his mouth. Steve pressed a responding kiss into the back of his neck.

“She’s probably noticed that someone keeps climbing in my window at like four in the morning,” Nancy replied drily. Steve made a noise of mock offence.

“You were awake-”

“Yeah, because I was worried about my other boyfriend, not because I was waiting-”

“Mm, no, I think you were waiting.”

“You were totally waiting,” Jonathan agreed. Nancy stuck her tongue out at him and he kissed the little crease between her eyebrows. When he pulled away, it had relaxed, her face open with adoration. “I love you.”

Nancy kissed his chin again, and he realised with a barely repressed amusement that it was because she couldn’t reach the rest of his face. “I love you too, you fucking moron,” she said. Her voice was so soft that it didn’t even feel like an insult. She propped herself up to lean across him and kiss Steve, a smile caught between their mouths. Jonathan found himself staring in marvel at the sight.

“Hey, Steve,” he murmured. “When you said the rest of our lives-”

Steve cut him off with a kiss. Their first real kiss, Jonathan distantly realised, but before he could really process that, Steve was pulling back. He was smiling. It was faintly sad. “Yeah, the rest of our lives,” he said quietly. “As long as you want that.” Jonathan nodded instantly, making his bangs flop with his enthusiasm. Steve kissed him again. It was longer, slower; Jonathan’s body woke up to it like he was coming up from a nap, but just as Steve’s tongue slipped into his mouth, Nancy moaned under her breath and it broke. Nancy and Jonathan both made identical sounds of complaint and then glanced at each other in confused surprise. Steve laughed. “Sorry, babes.” He kissed the corner of Jonathan’s lips and then the tip of Nancy’s nose, grinning. “As much as I’d love to continue-” a hand slipped under Nancy’s shirt, which was definitely not fair, “-Johnny’s ribs are bruised. So not tonight.”

“But I  _ want _ tonight,” Jonathan said. It came out as more of a whine than intended.

Steve kissed him again in apology. “It’s okay. We have the rest of our lives, remember?” Nancy surged up and kissed Steve on the mouth- right after he’d kissed Jonathan, wow, that brought up some strange thoughts- pulling away with a brilliant grin.

“If it’s just Jonathan’s ribs that are bruised-”

“Oh, that’s not fair,” Jonathan groaned, but Steve was already grinning deviously, and resituating himself.

Nancy brought his hand up and kissed his scar in apology. “I thought you liked watching,” she said, which wasn’t nearly as sweet but he technically had no argument for.

Luckily, they didn’t wake anyone up, even when Nancy slipped and almost fell off the bed, or when Steve started whispering an unholy litany into Jonathan’s ear and managed something that made him yell out, his whole body arching slightly, aching in more ways than one. It was spectacularly unfair, but also just spectacular, and weirdly satisfying even before Nancy took pity and gave him a handjob that lasted maybe forty seconds. So. That was something to mark off their sex life checklist. (He didn’t say that out loud for fear that Nancy might really make one.)

Nancy and Steve’s hands settled together on his stomach again once they were all cleaned up, both of them tucked around him tightly, and he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

.

.

The phantoms came anyway. He jerked awake from a mind-grown mutiny, a shout dying on his lips. The warmth on either side of him felt scalding. Like fire. Like flames. Like an inferno around him, everywhere, echoing everywhere, bringing down everything he’d ever known, the walls that echoed his whole life blazing to nothing, his own broken body as tinder, and for a moment, he could summon no gratefulness that he was saved.

He carefully extracted himself from their hold and crept out the door, heading for the stairs. He needed some water. Some painkillers, maybe. Or some kind of sleeping pill. Something to knock him out and keep the ghosts at bay. It was dumb, anyway, because he’d  _ chosen _ to open the door, and when the agony knocked him off, he didn’t expect to wake up again. He’d meant to sleep in those ashes. He shouldn’t be so haunted by the idea that he almost did.

The kitchen was silent when he pulled open the medicine cabinet and he winced at the creak. It wasn’t loud enough to wake anyone up. The floor creaked behind him anyway. He whipped around before he could help it.

"Oh my God," he whispered. "Oh my God, hi. Hi." He reached out to… he didn't know, pat his shoulder or something, but aborted the movement halfway through. Will probably didn't want to be touched right now. God, it had been two weeks. "You’re here," he said dumbly, because he was a little in shock.

Will gave a weak smile. "I’m here," he repeated. He bit his lip, the darkness and the silence of the kitchen stretching between them like a chasm, and then asked, haltingly, "How are you?"

Jonathan’s throat was dry. “I’m okay,” he said automatically. “I was-” he swallowed back “worried,” and trailed off into an awkward silence. He swallowed hard. “I missed you.” He kept talking, words rushing out, not wanting to know if Will would reply in kind or not. “I mean, I’ve been better, but I’m pretty good. Holly thinks I’m cool now, so that makes things fun. And I beat Dustin at whatever game he dragged me into, so he doesn’t think I’m a complete loser anymore either. Who knew I’d be so popular now, right? Should’ve tried that with my classmates. Might not have been an utter creep.” He laughed again, even more awkwardly, and stared down at the Tylenol in his hand.

Will was still just staring at him. He stayed silent for another dragging moment. Jonathan felt weirdly ill under his blank scrutiny. When he finally spoke, his voice was shaking. “I missed you too.”

Jonathan didn’t mean to say, “Since when?” but it slipped out, desperate and devoid of the bitterness that was caught in his chest. Will crossed his arms defensively, but it seemed more like he was drawing into himself than drawing away, and before he could think about it too much then Jonathan opened his arms. Will hovered in the same spot for another second, but then he came crashing into the hug, his face nestling into Jonathan’s shoulder with a stifled sob. “Shit, Will- Will, it’s okay. It’s okay.” He blinked back the sudden tears in his eyes and cursed himself internally. He was not going to cry. He was not going to cry.

Then Will whispered, “I was so  _ scared,” _ and Jonathan’s eyes betrayed him at the crack of his voice. “You weren’t there,” he said, his voice thick, and then, “You weren’t there,” again, and Jonathan held on tightly, feeling Will’s shoulder shake beneath his grip. “I- I thought I was doing something  _ good,”  _ Will continued. God, but he was choking on the phantoms too. “I was trying to get rid of the dogs, but you were- you were in there, and I didn’t know, and I didn’t wanna get rid of you, I didn’t  _ know, _ and you weren’t  _ there _ -”

“It’s okay,” Jonathan whispered. He held him closer, close enough to hear their hearts beating together. “It’s okay-”

“It’s not!” Will snapped, shoving away from him for about two seconds and then crumpling back into his arms again. “It’s not okay! You almost-” he choked off into silence, but the word hung between them heavily.

Jonathan breathed out, long and slow. “Will.” He went silent again for a minute. The darkness was swarming, buzzing, sharp with something neither of them wanted to say. “I was okay with that,” he finally said. “And I’d be okay with it again.”

“I don’t want you to be okay with it,” Will said, his voice still sharp. “That’s not fair. You’re not supposed to…” he hid his face in Jonathan’s shoulder again, scowling. “You’re supposed to be okay. You’re always okay.”

Jonathan has never been okay in his life, but he decided not to say that. “I’d do it again.” Will shuddered, clearly wanting to protest again, but he kept talking. “I’d do it as many times as I had to. I’d do it until it killed me. Just as long as you were safe.”

“I hate you,” Will replied. It wasn’t very convincing. “Stop worrying about other people.” Jonathan shrugged slightly and listened to Will breathe until it was steady again. “I love you.” It felt like when they were kids again, when Will was small enough to properly curl up into his arms.

Jonathan smiled before he could help it. The phantoms were lurking at the edges of his perception, but they weren’t swarming his lungs anymore, and his chest was filled with a warm that didn’t burn. “I love you too.”

_ I’d die for you, _ he thought, but he didn’t say it. He didn’t need to. But he didn’t let go this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's the end! that is that. i hope you liked it! thank you for reading because uh if you did i love you (: comment and let me know what you thought!!

**Author's Note:**

> presumably i will write a chapter 2 just for kicks (: if u have complaints, concerns, or requests, come talk to me @theworriedman on tumblr (please come talk to me god i am so lonely)
> 
> i hope you enjoyed it!!


End file.
